by Joe Jackson
Another reason to wish Jori-an was here, Kari thought.
She left the deserted confines of the administrative offices. Most of the administrative staff was working out of the priests’ domicile, one of the few structures not damaged at all. Not for any lack of effort on the part of the Mehr’Durillian attackers, though, as several priests had lost their lives defending it. Kari still wasn’t sure of the exact death toll from the night before, and no one seemed keen on informing her. There would be a time for that, but it wasn’t now. Now, she had broader concerns.
She found the council convened when she entered the rear audience chamber of the campus temple. The nine humans regarded her with solemn gazes, understanding that there must be something of tremendous importance for her to summon them the way she had. Kari saluted them when she reached the floor before their podium, but then she strode forward without a word and laid Turik Jalar’s records in front of Master Goldberg.
“What’s this?” the bespectacled priest asked as he organized them and began to casually flip through them. “Oh… by the gods…”
“I have something to tell you, Masters,” Kari said, standing before them on the floor and trying to get her thoughts in order. “Four years ago, when you sent me to Tsalbrin, Karmi’s Sword made an unscheduled stop at the islands of Salkorum.”
“They took you into pirate-controlled waters?” Master Perez asked. It made sense that he would be the most perturbed by the thought, being the one in charge of integrations between hunters and the military, even when it was just for transportation.
Kari’s mouth twitched but she fought off the smile successfully. “They’re not pirate-controlled,” she said. “That’s just what gets spread around to keep people away from them. The truth of the matter, Masters, is that Salkorum is where the seterra-rir have been hiding out for the last couple hundred years.” There were gasps, but that was it; not one man said a word, waiting for Kari to continue. “My werewolf contact, Gil, was able to recover Turik Jalar’s records, but contrary to what I expected, they’re not so much about the War of Purity as his investigations into why the Order was involved.”
She took a deep breath and folded her arms across her chest. “Jalar wanted to undo what had been done, but he knew there was no way the seterra-rir were ever going to trust the Order again, much less rir members of it. So as much as he wanted to do something, he left it to some future generation, to let time heal the wound a bit before more… comprehensive measures could be taken.”
“And you know where they are…,” Master Bennet whispered.
Kari nodded. “We do. And what I’d like, Masters, is for two or three of you to volunteer to go to Salkorum and re-establish diplomacy with them. They still don’t trust rir for the most part, but they’re more open to humans and serilian-rir.”
“You want us to go personally?” Master Arinotte asked with a cocked eyebrow, but the smile on his face said he was intrigued by the possibility and the turn of events overall.
“I won’t pretend the War of Purity wouldn’t have happened without our people, but this Order was involved, and we owe it to them to make things right,” Kari said. “I obviously can’t order you to go, but as priests of Zalkar and members of this council, you can speak for all of us. Jalar never figured out who was really behind our Order… I don’t want to say being duped, but clearly there was some subterfuge behind it all. Which is fine; we don’t want to make excuses, we want to make reparations. I think some of you would be well-suited to that task.”
“An intriguing prospect,” Master van Holtzer said.
“There is one other thing that bothers me, though,” Kari said.
“Who had the records?” Master Goldberg asked.
“That’s what bothers me,” she replied. “Jason Bosimar was the one who had the records taken. I’m not sure where Gil found them, or how she found out it was Jason that took them, but she was certain, and I trust her instincts.”
“But why would Jason steal the records?”
Kari sighed. “Because he was mated to Jori-an Stormrider, who’s seterra-rir.”
She was pretty sure she could’ve heard a pin drop, the chamber fell so silent. She kept the amusement from her face, but she did find it funny that Jori-an and Tormaar had been so well-known to the council without the priests having any idea what they were. For the Order to have employed a seterra-rir and a half-mallasti without being wise to either fact pointed to there being some shoddy record-keeping in Jason’s day. He had noted right in his journals that Jori-an was seterra-rir, but he must have kept those records private.
“What I’m not sure about, Masters, is how he knew to go after the records, how he knew what they contained at all.” She held her hands up in a placating gesture – the next bit she told them was unlikely to be well-received. “I think, Masters, that I now know why Jason let Amastri stay in the city for so long.”
Once again the chamber went silent, and Kari began to pace back and forth. “I’ve been told that King Koursturaux is partially clairvoyant, and she seems manipulative enough that she might have set Jason down the path. Turik Jalar thought the Crimson Huntress might have been behind the attack on the seterra-rir in the first place. I’m not sure what she might have been up to with Jason, but I think it bears a lot of investigating – and we can start with the seterra-rir people themselves. It could turn out they hide a secret much like the kirelas-rir did when we met them four years ago.”
“With her increased activity here, even through agents, and surrounding you, it certainly does point to some massive conspiracy,” Master Franklin put in. “Of course, it does assume she had some involvement, no matter how minor, in the War of Purity. But we should definitely try to ascertain her intentions now. On this, you are quite correct.”
“Master Bennet?”
The head priest perked up from his contemplations. “Yes?”
“Do you want to pick, or should I?” Kari asked, finally allowing a little grin.
“We will take care of the arrangements,” the elder priest said with a chuckle. “I am certain Master Goldberg will give us a thorough accounting of what else Turik Jalar’s records contain. What are your plans from here? I do hope rest is among them.”
Kari finally let a laugh escape. “Yes, I’ll be heading home… well, to Eli and Danilynn’s house, anyway, as soon as we’re done here. I think it’s time to spend some time with my kids, but there’s other things I’ll be looking into. I’ll let you know more when I get to it.”
“Lady Vanador,” Master Goldberg said, drawing her attention quickly once she finished the salute she’d begun. “This is phenomenal work. I am still very interested to hear all of the details of your latest foray to Mehr’Durillia, but these records should keep me out of your hair for a few days, at least. But know that you are doing us, yourself, and this Order proud with your efforts.”
“Thank you, Master,” she returned with another salute.
“Go; enjoy your time with your children.”
“By your leave,” Kari said, and she turned and departed.
“Do you think she has any idea how lucky we are to have her back among us?” she heard Master Perez ask, intentionally doing so while she was still in earshot.
Kari smiled but didn’t wait to overhear the replies.
Chapter VII – Women of the People
“What are you doing?”
Kris took a deep breath and sighed near-silently before he looked up to Liria. “Praying. Care to join me?”
The girl knelt down beside him, but looked to him for guidance. “I’m not sure what to do,” she whispered.
The Silver Blades had made good time getting to the border of Pataria, but Kris hesitated at the realm’s edge. It was the first time he’d been to Mehr’Durillia, and they were about to cross out of the only neutral, safe ground. He had assurances that Morduri was on their side, at least to some degree, but that only meant so much. Here, in the realm around Anthraxis, there were at least laws that ke
pt the kings from attacking or abducting visitors.
For all the good that did Erik, he thought soberly.
“You serve Sakkrass, or Ashakku as your people call him, right?” he asked, and the syrinthian hunter nodded. “Well, how do your people normally do that?”
“It is typically the place of a priestess or the matriarch of a household to handle such matters,” Liria explained. “I remember some of what Se’sasha would speak when we gathered in prayer with her, but I’m not sure I belong saying those things, or going to Ashakku directly. What do you say or ask when you pray?”
Kris stared at the girl for a silent stretch but then smiled. “Right now I’m asking for our safety, and for guidance to protect all of you who’ve been assigned to my command. The Lord has brought you all together for a purpose and, well, I’m just asking for His guidance and power to make sure I serve my purpose in getting you to accomplish yours.”
“So you talk directly to your deity?”
Kris nodded and laid his hand on Liria’s shoulder. “I can’t say I know all that much about Sakkrass-Ashakku, but I can judge a lot about him just based on his relationship with Kari. I’m sure when you consider the positions Kari and Se’sasha hold in his service, it might seem a bit intimidating for you to want to talk to him. But he wants you to, Liria. He wants you to talk to him, to have a relationship with him, to trust him to guide and protect you. He wants to hear the desires of your heart, your hopes, your dreams, even your fears. He wants you to share everything with him.”
The syrinthian girl blinked and looked away toward the hills of Pataria to the north. “How? I… I feel as though I’m going to make a fool of myself. To openly speak of or worship Ashakku is illegal here, and would have meant certain discovery when I was a spy among the Order. Now he feels like a stranger, except when Se’sasha is there to guide us.”
“Hello,” Kris said, and the girl shook her head in confusion. “Start by saying hello. Then talk to him like you do with me, or with your fellow cadets, or the other syrinthians back home. Tell him about your day. Tell him what we’re here to do. Ask him to help keep you brave and strong, no matter what may come. Tell him about that cute guy you met, or how you dream of having children. Tell him everything, Liria.”
“I haven’t met any cute guy…,” she said with an impish smirk.
“Well, tell him you’ll work on that… or ask him to,” Kris said. He patted her shoulder when she closed her eyes and bowed her head, and he made his way over to the others.
Kris met Sonja’s gaze and nodded. The scarlet-haired sorceress knew the land and the people they were going to see, so for the time being, Kris was satisfied following her lead. He could speak the infernal tongue despite not having a lot of practice, but that didn’t mean the people of Moskarre would want anything to do with him. He was charismatic with the people of Citaria, but here, it was better to use whatever advantages he had. He was Kaelariel’s son, which meant he was a threat to many of the kings, and just as likely to be seen as one by their people.
Languages were one of those things – those many things – that he had a natural aptitude for. Being the son of a “god” certainly came with a lot of benefits, and an extremely retentive – or perhaps augmented would be a better way to say it – memory was one of them. It was the basis of his expertise in everything from sword-fighting to tactics to music and more. But there was one thing Kris thought he did better than just about anyone else, and it was the basis of his success as a leader:
He knew how to leave jobs in the hands of those more capable.
Once Liria and the others were finished praying, Sonja led them across the stream and into Pataria proper. Kris scanned in all directions as they began to ascend the hill. There was no missing the sudden change in the way everything looked, from the air to the sky to the ground, and everything else in between. Krycyd, Markus, Sherman, Gabrius, and Katarina all looked around as if spooked, and Kris assumed the paladins could feel the difference as much as see it. They had left the Overking’s realm, and instantly the sky had cleared from the red haze to a pristine blue, dotted with clouds. The ground went from parched, dead earth with only the skeletal-like remains of long-dead grass to a gently-rolling, grass-covered knoll. Even the smell and taste of the air was different, and Kris looked back over his shoulder as realization hit him.
“Dear God,” he muttered, and his declaration drew everyone’s attention.
“You feel it too, my friend?” Markus asked, stepping up beside him.
“It all makes sense now,” the Warlord whispered, then turned to his companions. “The name of the city… Anthraxis. Liria, if I’m not mistaken, it means–”
“Ground zero,” Sonja interjected.
Kris nodded, turning back toward the city, only its black tower visible from this distance, and then only barely through the crimson haze. “Do you realize what this is?” he asked with a gesture toward the crimson realm. “It’s… it’s what’s left of Be’shatha.”
“What are you saying?” Krycyd asked, stepping beside his half-brother.
Sharyn moved closer to the stream and gave an appraising sniff. “I think you’re right,” she said with a grimace. “I didn’t recognize it when we first landed, but after stepping out here into fresh air again…”
“This crimson haze, the dead land… this is where the demon kings killed Be’shatha, and the effects of that are the reason the Overking’s little capital realm looks, smells, and… tastes the way it does,” the Warlord said. “When you look at the sky, you’re seeing it through her blood.”
His words hit each of his companions like a solid punch to the gut, but no reaction was more horrified than Liria’s. The syrinthian demonhunter’s golden eyes were wide and brimming with tears, and her delicate hands were clamped over her mouth as if they were the only thing stopping her from screaming. She sat down on the side of the hill, and Sonja went over and gave her a comforting hug.
Each of the paladins in particular looked mortified, but Corbanis was angrier than anything. “We will repay them in kind, someday,” he said. “But we need to concentrate on what we can affect in the here and now, and at this moment, that’s rescuing my son.”
“Absolutely,” Kris said, patting the larger man’s pauldron as he stepped past. “Sonja, you keep leading the way since you’ve been here before. Everyone else, keep your eyes and ears open, and try to keep chatter to a minimum. I’ve no doubts our enemies are expecting us in some fashion, and even in King Morduri’s realm, there’s no telling who’ll be a spy or at least unsympathetic to our cause.”
Sonja started up the hill after helping Liria back to her feet. Kris flashed his gaze from horizon to horizon. He had an uneasy feeling even in this realm of a supposed ally. Their enemies knew they were coming, and Kris knew the kings would, at the very least, have eyes and ears everywhere, watching and waiting. How effective they were in Pataria, he wasn’t sure, but he suspected if Morduri was as lax as Kari made him out to be, it wouldn’t play in their favor.
“You okay?” he asked as he stepped beside Liria.
“Yes,” she said, cutting herself off from calling him sir again. “For a while, I was excited to be back on Mehr’Durillia again, but what you just said brought me back to reality right quick. I had never been to Anthraxis before, and I’m not sure the people I knew who had gone there had ever suspected why the city and its landscape are the way they are.”
“I’d bet it’s another part of the reason the Overking funnels everyone here: To remind them that he killed Be’shatha.”
“Kris, you should be mindful of saying her name aloud in public. It is punishable by death here.”
The Warlord turned toward the black city in the distance. “Be’shatha, Be’shatha, Be’shatha! Come get me!” he shouted petulantly. He turned back toward the hill and flashed a grim smile at the slack-jawed syrinthian. “Duly noted.”
“Are you mad?” she blurted.
Kris shrugged and followed Sonja up the hill
a bit. “Nope, just sick of waiting for a war that I know is coming. How was your chat with Ashakku?” Liria didn’t answer, she just smiled. “Good. Make sure you have another one tonight.”
A pair of guards watched them begin to ascend the hill, alarmed at first until Sonja called up to them in the infernal tongue. They appeared to recognize her, but Kris could plainly see that the size of the party was making them nervous.
“Hold up here,” he said, motioning for everyone to stop. “Sonja, you and I will go first. Look at them: We look like an invasion force to them. The rest of you wait here, and we’ll call you up when we’ve explained our presence.”
Sonja looked up at the mallasti guards and then back at Kris. “I’m too far away to sense their emotions, but I’ll take your word for it.”
“I’ve invaded enough places to know that look,” he said, measuring the mallasti guards’ reaction with an appraising gaze. How often had he seen that posture and the brave set of eyes hiding terror? Whether he went as conqueror or liberator, it was usually the same. He gestured for Sonja to accompany him and continued up the hillside.
Once they reached the top, Sonja greeted the guards in infernal, “Good day. I know it’s been some time since I visited here with my friends. I’ve brought some other friends with me this time, but we’re just passing through on the way to Si’Dorra.”
The guards looked down at the others, but then turned their stares up at Kris. He wasn’t much taller than they were, but there was a clear respect in their eyes. Could they sense that he was Kaelariel’s son? Or at least that there was something “divine” in him? Kris had always known the truth behind Mehr’Durillia – that its people weren’t demons – but this world was shrouded in darkness, and none of its residents could be trusted completely. Not yet, anyway.
